


Scents of Home

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [52]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awesome Laura Hale, Beta Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Laura Hale at Least, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Kate Argent, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Scenting, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Stiles Stilinski is a Tease, The Hale Family, Tumblr Prompt, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Derek didn't expect to pass a complete stranger on the street and fall head over heels for him. But that's Stiles Stilinski for you.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 32
Kudos: 636





	Scents of Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Ice_Mage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ice_Mage/gifts).



It started when Derek went to buy coffee. 

To be fair, he hadn’t gone out into the public that morning expecting to be attacked. He’d gone out because of his sister’s insistence and because he knew she wouldn’t get off his back until he got her a proper cup of coffee. It wasn’t his fault their machine was broken during the move.

The point was, Derek hadn’t gone out in public that morning expecting to be attacked. That was completely uncalled for.

Okay, he wasn’t attacked, exactly. He was sort of attacked. He was attacked by the sudden scent of cinnamon and autumn leaves, which struck him so hard he ended up tripping over his own feet and nearly face-planting to the sidewalk.

And he probably would have if someone hadn’t caught him by the arms. Not just someone. The someone— the boy—who smelled so strongly like spices and fall that Derek had a mini heart attack and yanked back like he’d been burned. The boy squeaked in surprise at Derek’s sudden movements, stumbling back too.

“Dude, dude, I’m sorry, geez! Please don’t have a stroke on me, I’d really hate it if you had a heart attack on me. I promise, I usually watch where I’m going but my phone buzzed and it was my dad saying he had pizza and I got distracted and—”

Derek stared at the kid. He was still rambling and gesturing wildly around like that was somehow going to help his explanation. For a moment, Derek really didn’t know how to react.

Then he shook himself out of his head and realized that something was very wrong. The kid continued to rant, people continued to pass them by on the sidewalk, but Derek couldn’t smell anyone but him. The boy, the kid, the amber-eyed idiot who didn’t look any older than twenty, at most. His scent hit Derek like a tidal wave over and over again and as Derek realized something was wrong, he also realized what.

That’s when the panic attack started.

“Oh my god,” the kid said, finally cutting off with his rant. “Oh my god, I’ve broken you, haven’t I? Are you going to press charges? Are you going to punch me? Oh my god, are you going to call my dad?”

Derek blinked a few times, staring at him. It took him a long moment to regain the ability to form words. “Your dad?”

“... The Sheriff,” the kid said. Then he cursed. “I shouldn’t have said that should I? Now you know who I am. Wait, how did you not know who I am?”

Derek  _ still _ didn’t know who he was. He didn’t realize he was supposed to. He just continued staring until the boy was shifting nervously and his teeth sunk down to chew on his lower lip. The red hoodie the kid wore was a little too small and his hair stuck up in all directions. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. That really shouldn’t have made Derek’s stomach clench so hard.

“Well then,” the boy said. “Seeing as you’re not injured, not broken, and not, um, talking, I’m going to make my exit now. It was terrifying to meet you!”

“Wait,” Derek said, the word spilling out before he could stop it. The kid froze and stared at him and Derek suddenly felt his face turn hot. “What is your name?”

The boy’s already pale face paled anymore. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and chuckled, before deflating. “Stiles.”

“Stiles?”

“Stiles Stilinski. The Sheriff’s kid?”

Derek hadn’t been back in Beacon Hills long enough to know who the current Sheriff’s kid was. So he only nodded dumbly and Stiles offered one last nervous smile before turning around. He all but raced away from Derek and the scent of cinnamon and autumn slowly faded with him.

Derek stood there for another few minutes. People passed him and stared, but he continued to gaze in the direction that Stiles had gone. His brain wasn’t working properly. Something was wrong.

Derek felt drunk. Which was odd, because he’d only been drunk twice in his entire life. But he felt like he’d just consumed the strongest alcohol laced with the strongest wolfsbane and everything around him was moving slowly.

_ Stiles.  _ It was a ridiculously stupid name, Derek thought. And the kid had a ridiculously stupid face.  _ Stiles. _ Derek had no doubts.

Stiles Stilinski was his mate.

\- -

Derek didn’t actually get coffee. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he forgot, wandering all the way back to the apartment he and Laura rented out before he realized he’d come back empty-handed.

Laura didn’t seem too impressed.

“One job, Derek,” she said, frowning at his empty hands. “You had one job.”

Derek gazed blankly at her. Laura’s frown turned concerned.

“Okay, Der, what’s wrong with you? You look… grumpier than usual. I know you didn’t want to come back here, but I swear to god if you start complaining again—”

“Stiles Stilinski,” Derek said, cutting her off. “His name is Stiles Stilinski.”

Laura’s jaw snapped closed and her green eyes flared with interest. Derek moved over and dropped down onto the couch, before burying his face in his hands and shaking his head. 

“Laura, what kind of name is Stiles Stilinski?”

“Okay,” Laura said, moving over and sinking down next to him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What the hell is a Stiles?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said. “I think he’s an idiot.”

“He’s a human?”

“He’s my  _ mate.” _

Laura froze, her hand resting on the middle of Derek’s back. Derek could’ve sworn he felt the tips of claws and he resisted the urge to whine and flash his throat. When he lifted his head and met Laura’s gaze, her eyes were slightly red and her expression was more than intrigued now. 

“Laura,” Derek said. “How the hell do you woo a human?”

“A human.”

“Yes.”

“A boy.”

“The Sheriff’s kid.”

“Der,” she said, turning to meet his gaze. He did flash his throat upward a little then. “Are you sure?”

“He smells,” Derek said miserably. Laura crooked up an eyebrow and Derek felt his face turn hot as he ducked his head again. 

He didn’t want to go into the fact that from the moment he’d looked at Stiles and his stupid face, he’d been bombarded by the smells that reminded him of home. Of his home, his family, and his favorite season. It was like the fall months at the Hale house when Derek’s dad would make cookies, Derek’s mom would make them rake leaves, and then they’d spend holidays, like Halloween, scaring the shit out of innocent trick-or-treaters.

“He smells like pack,” Derek said after a moment. Laura’s touch softened on his back and he felt himself melt into her touch.

Because Derek was a little terrified. The last time he thought something smelled good, it had been Kate and her perfume. Something that reminded Derek a little bit of red wine, a smell he couldn’t stand now.

But Stiles smelled nothing like that. Stiles smelled like family and safety and home. Derek hadn’t even been back in Beacon Hills for two weeks now and he was already messing up his vow to never get close to anyone from here again.

“Stiles Stilinski,” Laura said. “The Sheriff’s kid?”

“Apparently.”

“And you want to go after him?”

Derek paused for a moment. Because despite everything, it hadn’t crossed his mind that he could just ignore it. Ignore the smell, ignore Stiles, and ignore the fact that Derek had ever run into him. It was a completely accidental meeting after all. If Derek had been five minutes slower, he probably wouldn’t have run into Stiles at all.

Was this something he wanted to go after? Derek wasn’t sure.

Laura seemed to notice his indecision because she chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair and tracing her nose gently along the back of his neck before pushing herself up.

“No pressure, little bro. But if you dare go after this kid without telling me first, I will personally murder you. I want to meet him and I want to know everything about where he comes from. He doesn’t step foot into this apartment until I have details.”

Derek couldn’t help wincing at that. Because he knew there was more to the joking tone in her voice. Laura wouldn’t let anyone— even the pizza man—into their territory without a background check first.

Not after Kate.

He mumbled agreement into his hands and continued to stare at the floor. This was his decision, he realized. Whether or not he went after this Stiles Stilinski. What even  _ was _ a Stiles Stilinksi?

Derek decided he wanted to find out.

\- -

He wasn’t stalking Stiles, per se.

Derek wasn’t stalking Stiles, he didn’t care what it looked like. Yeah, he might have done a little bit of research on the kid. He might have figured out that he was home for the summer, on his second year at MIT, and had an internship from the FBI tucked in his belt. 

But Derek wasn’t stalking Stiles. He just knew that the kid was staying with his dad across town, worked a summer shift at the bookstore nearby, and often bought coffee for his dad and the other deputies during his lunch break.

But Derek wasn’t stalking him. He was just interested.

So when Derek went down to the bookstore that Stiles worked at, it was purely out of interest. He didn’t even look toward the front desk as he slipped into the store, moving quickly behind the bookshelves and out of sight.

The scent of cinnamon and autumn leaves in the shop was overwhelming. Derek did his best not to close his eyes and just smell it, but it was hard. Shaking his head, he glanced over the shelves of books and realized he had wandered into the religious section.

Someone came into view and Derek froze as he realized it was Stiles.

Stiles paused too. Then a small nervous grin flitted across across his face and he leaned against the closest bookshelf, crooking up a brow.

“You’re not following me now, are you Sourpuss?”

Derek blinked at him. He was pretty sure words were possible, but at the moment, even the act of breathing fled him. Stiles barked out a laugh and waved a hand through the air.

“I’m joking, dude. I’m joking! You just look like you’re about to have a heart attack which, as we agreed on when we first met, would be very unfortunate for me. I don’t know the rules of involuntary manslaughter, but I’m pretty sure it’d be awkward for my dad if he had to arrest me.”

Derek nodded silently. Stiles grinned.

“So, can I help you find anything? Some Old Testament, maybe?”

Derek finally remembered he was surrounded by the literal Bible and quickly shook his head. “This isn’t the section I was looking for.”

“Ah,” Stiles said. “Well, I can help you find the poetry books if you want. Or maybe some Jane Austen? You look like a ‘classics’ man.”

Derek didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t really know how to answer anything Stiles said so he just nodded again. Stiles chuckled and started off across the bookstore. 

“Well, here we have some Ernest Hemingway, here’s some George Orwell, and oh! Jane Austen. That lady wrote a mean Pride and Prejudice, you know.”

Derek was faintly aware that Stiles was still talking, but he was too focused on the boy’s face to pay attention to what he was saying. Stiles’s skin was pale and dotted with moles, and Derek really shouldn’t be concentrating so hard on his lips. The kid’s eyes were amber, but Derek thought when they caught the light, they looked a little golden.

“Uh,” Stiles said, and Derek realized with a blush how hard he’d been staring. “See anything you like, dude?”

“I wasn’t staring.”

Stiles blinked a few times. Then a lopsided smile cracked across his face and he shook his head. “I meant the books, Sourpuss. You feeling alright?”

“Fine,” Derek said. He turned to glare at the bookshelf as if it’d personally offended him and then grabbed the first book within reach. Stiles whistled.

“Fahrenheit 451. You could have worse tastes.”

Derek wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or insult. Or maybe it was neither.

He followed Stiles toward the back of the shop and paid for his book. He left a hefty tip and ignored Stiles’s protests when the boy tried to hand it back. Grabbing his book and receipt, Derek put on his best smile.

“Thanks for the help, Stiles.”

“Thanks for basically paying for my lunch, dude.”

Derek blushed and turned away, doing his best not to run from the shop. It was really hard, though, and he felt Stiles’s eyes burning into his back the whole way out. The bell over the exit rang and Derek was pretty sure he shut the door a little too hard.

Laura was at the apartment when he arrived back, still a little red-faced and fighting a smile. She sat at the table with a mug of tea but the second her gaze zeroed in on where he stood, her eyebrows shot up and she was moving across the room, taking his shoulders and sniffing in deep.

Derek tensed. Laura glanced up and searched his face. “You smell different.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Derek,” she said, eyeing him up and down. A smirk formed on her lips as she saw the bag he held and she snatched it up before Derek could protest, dancing away. Derek clenched his jaw and glared as Laura dug out his book, looked at the cover, and then proceeded to throw back her head with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Derek growled. Laura grinned at him.

“You hate old books!”

“I do not.”

“When we were kids you threw Hemingway out the window because you said it was rotting your brain.”

“It was,” Derek grumbled, stalking toward her and ripping the book out of her hands. It still smelled faintly like Stiles. “But I thought this one looked interesting.”

“What’s it about?”

Derek glanced back down at the cover and frowned even harder. “Really hot temperatures.”

Laura’s cackling picked up a level.

Derek glared at her and set the book on the coffee table. In truth, he probably wasn’t even going to read it. Maybe smell it once or twice more. But he wasn’t ever going to read it.

Laura was watching him knowing from the table when Derek dropped onto a chair across from her. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned.

“So, have you made your decision yet?”

“I just like the way he smells,” Derek said, looking down at his hands. “It’s... like before, Laura. It’s like before the fire.”

Her smile faded a little. Laura reached across the table and caught his hand, giving it a good squeeze. Derek swallowed hard and found he couldn’t meet her gaze again. They didn’t often talk about it. The fire, that was. 

He’d always thought leaving Beacon Hills had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But now Derek was starting to wonder if returning to it was.

“It’s strange,” he said. “I don’t understand why.”

“It’s ‘mate’,” Laura said, shrugging. “It’s not something all werewolves find. You’re lucky.

“He’s still an idiot.”

“But an idiot you’re planning on going after?”

Derek didn’t answer for a long moment, his memory snapping back to Stiles and his grin and his dancing amber eyes. Then quietly, he nodded, and Laura’s scent warmed across from him. 

“Then, little bro, I’m going to teach you how to woo a human.”

Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was pretty sure he didn’t need any help, especially not from Laura. He could do this by himself.

\- -

He could not do this by himself.

Or at least, maybe he shouldn’t. That’s what Derek realized when he spent five hours at the coffee shop for the next week and a half, waiting to see if Stiles would show up. He wasn’t sure if he kept missing the boy, if he had the wrong coffee shop, or if he was just wrong and Stiles didn’t buy his dad and deputies coffee.

But that had been a Facebook update status. Derek was pretty sure he did.

He was such a stalker.

On the tenth day, still ignoring Laura and her attempts to help, Derek trudged back into the coffee shop. The waitress knew his order by now and she’d given up trying to flirt with him on day four. Now, she just brought over his mocha, offered a polite smile, and turned away to attend to the other customers.

Derek leaned back in the same chair of the same table he’d laid claim to a week ago and proceeded to wait.

He didn’t have to wait very long.

Stiles came flouncing through not an hour later, closely followed by a slightly older man with light brown hair. The man wore a deputy’s outfit and was smiling fondly as Stiles talked, the boy waving his hands through the air as he punctuated each word.

The smell of the coffee shop filled with Stiles’s scent. It was like cinnamon and coffee and Derek didn’t think he ever wanted to leave.

He sat there for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Then he realized that he was basically hiding in the furthest corner of the cafe, partially hidden by a protruding wall, and there was no way Stiles was going to see him.

Derek panicked. Before he could even think he was pushing himself up, his coffee was tipping over, and a half-empty mocha was spilling across the tabletop.

Derek supposed that was one way to make a scene.

He stood there for a moment wondering how this was possibly his life when suddenly the smell of cinnamon and autumn was overwhelming. Derek spun around and Stiles yelped, stumbling a few feet back. 

“Woah, Fahrenheit 451 dude, it’s me! The kid from the sidewalk, the one from the bookstore? Let’s avoid the heart attacks today!”

The kid had a handful of napkins in his hand and he offered them out as he regained his balance. Derek was pretty sure his face was fifty shades of red and he took them gratefully, turning toward the mess.

“Thanks.”

“So, you here for the coffee or the company?”

Derek tensed, frozen in place. There was no way Stiles could know Derek was here waiting for him. No way in hell. Unless he was a mind reader or something. “What company?”

“You meeting anyone here?”

Derek instantly felt himself relaxing. He finished wiping up the coffee and turned back around, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No. Just here for the coffee.”

“Wise choice,” Stiles said. “It’s the best in the town, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I make a pretty mean cup of black coffee. But that’s beside the point.”

Derek chuckled. Stiles studied his face before tilting his eyes, long eyelashes fluttering. “So, how goes the book? Have you finished it yet? Ready to come to the bookstore for another?”

_ The book. What book?  _ Derek stared at him for a long moment before it hit.

“Oh, it’s great.”

“Yeah? I read that in high school and didn’t mind it much. Got a favorite part?”

Derek’s mind went blank. “The… hot temperatures part?”

Stiles’s eyebrows flew up. Derek felt a lump forming in his throat and then Stiles snorted, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re hilarious, dude.”

Derek’s face turned warm and he grinned.

Then suddenly, the other man Stiles had come in with was approaching, a tray of coffee in hand. Stiles’s face brightened even more and Derek’s stomach did something strange at that. Something uncomfortable. 

“Dude,” Stiles said, beckoning to the deputy. “This is Deputy Parrish, my dad’s literal favorite deputy. Parrish, this is… this is… dude, who are you?”

Parrish raised an eyebrow and Derek resisted the urge to growl at that. He tried to focus on Stiles, not the ‘Sheriff’s favorite Deputy’. “Derek Hale.”

“Parrish this is— _ Derek Hale?” _

Derek didn’t know what to do with Stiles’s shocked tone. The boy and deputy exchanged looks and then Stiles shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m not freaking out. It’s just, dude. The Hale’s haven’t been in Beacon Hills since… uh...” Stiles trailed off and Derek ground his teeth together. He offered his best smile and nodded, although suddenly all he wanted to do was get  _ out.  _

“My sister and I are back in town for the foreseeable future.”

“You two should come by the station sometime,” Parrish said. “The current Sheriff was there the night of the fire. I’m sure he’d like to welcome you both back.”

Derek really wanted to snap at the man, but he didn’t even have a good reason why. So instead, he nodded tightly and started to brush by. But to his surprise, Stiles caught his arm before he could make his escape.

“You will come by,” the boy asked, amber eyes catching the overhead light. “Right?”

Derek glanced from him, to Parrish, and then nodded once. He pulled out of Stiles’s grip and did his best not to stalk out of the cafe.

He was pretty sure he failed.

\- -

So maybe Derek was willing to admit he needed help. He didn’t like it, he didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he did.

Laura was ecstatic.

“Okay,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “First, I need to see this kid.”

“Why.”

“Because, Der, he’s my little brother’s mate! Wait, don’t tell me. He hates puppies and thinks thunderstorms are the only reason to keep living.”

Derek gave her a flat look. Laura rolled her eyes.

“I’m joking, Der, I’m joking. I’m sure he’s quite lovely and fun.”

“He’s something alright.”

“So, when do I get to meet him?”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up. He didn’t actually think Laura had been serious. But when she crossed her arms and waited, he sighed. “We could go to the Sheriff’s station.”

“The Sheriff’s station?”

“He invited me.”

“Aw,” Laura said, eyes dancing. “How cute!”

“Shut up.”

She only grinned and patted him on the head, starting into her bedroom and announcing they were leaving in an hour. Derek rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure this was a bad idea and had no doubts it wasn’t going to end well. But he’d learned long ago not to tell Laura no.

Which might have been how an hour later, Derek was standing in the Sheriff’s office with Laura at his side. He hadn’t been here in years but it was like nothing had changed.

Some of the faces had, maybe. Derek didn’t remember much from his time here. He’d been in shock, in mourning, and hadn’t left Laura’s side except to give his statement.

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat and gazed around. He tensed as an older man approached; one with faint hints of Stiles’s scent, but nothing compared to the boy himself. The man wore the Sheriff’s badge, Derek realized. And he instantly straightened.

“Good afternoon,” the Sheriff said, glancing between them. “Can I help you two?”

Derek felt his face turn hot. Why had he come here again?

But then someone was calling his name and Stiles made a beeline across the office. Derek nearly slumped in on himself in relief and standing by his side, Laura straightened in interest.

“Dad, father-mine, pops,” Stiles said in excitement. “This is Derek!”

“Derek,” the Sheriff said. “Derek Hale?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I heard you’ve recently come back to town?”

“A month ago, sir.”

The Sheriff nodded his approval and Derek glanced sideways at his sister. She looked like she was going to say something too, but then another deputy was approaching. Parrish, Derek realized with a slightly sour feeling.

Except Laura suddenly straightened. Derek could’ve sworn her eyes flashed red, Stiles’s jaw dropped open, and then Laura was making a beeline for the door.

Parrish paused next to the Sheriff, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. And Stiles—Stiles was looking at Derek with a baffled expression. His scent had changed, Derek realized. He smelled excited, confused, and shocked all at once.

Derek’s stomach twisted.

“S-sorry, sir,” he said, backing after his sister. “Laura hasn’t been feeling well. It was, uh, nice to meet you?”

The Sheriff nodded once. Derek offered a small smile and then all but fled after Laura.

He found her outside, pacing back and forth the empty sidewalk and growling. Derek caught her arm and when she looked at him, her eyes flashed red. Derek swallowed a whine and tightened his grip.

“Laura, what’s happening?”

“Nothing.”

“Laura—”

“He smells.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “He…?”

“The deputy.”

Derek stared at her for a moment. Then he let go to turn away and mask his sudden laughter. It served her right to be making fun of him for the past month to suddenly be faced with her own crisis. Laura smacked him over the back of the head and Derek smirked at her, all teeth.

“Smells, Laura?”

“Shut up.”

“Smells like what, old memories, new ones, possibilities?”

“He smells like mom,” Laura hissed. “Like her burning food in the kitchen, taking care of the pups, making sure no one hurt the pack—”

Laura suddenly cut off and straightened. Derek turned around to see Stiles standing in the doorway of the building, looking more than a little awkward. The boy wiggled his fingers through the air and Laura patted Derek on the shoulder before moving back into the Sheriff’s station.

Derek just stood there. 

“So,” Stiles said, approaching carefully. “Werewolves.”

And Derek froze.

His eyes must have turned bright blue because the boy squeaked and threw his hands up. Stiles’s heart thudded against his chest and Derek was pretty sure his did too. Because Stiles wasn’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know. Not again, not like Kate—

“My best friend’s a werewolf,” Stiles said quickly. “He was turned by a rogue alpha when we were in high school and he’s even got his own pack across the country now. I, uh, didn’t realize it until your sister’s eyes.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Stiles flinched. “Are you mad that I know?”

Was he? Derek didn’t think so. Suddenly, it felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders and all he could do was shake his head. Stiles grinned.

“Good, because that’s totally so cool, dude! I mean, I thought I saw blue sometimes, but I was never sure. And I was pretty sure you growled at Parrish when you first met him but I mean, I thought maybe that was just a fetish or something.”

“A fetish?”

“There are some weird people out there, dude.”

Derek stared at him. Stiles nervously wet his lips, tucking his hands into his pockets and shrugging. 

“Not that I thought you were weird. A little stalkerish, maybe, after you started following me everywhere and accidentally liked one of my posts on Facebook from five years ago.”

Derek’s heart stopped. He hadn’t even realized he’d done that.

“But, uh, I don’t mind,” Stiles said. “You know. You don’t have terrible taste in books for anything.”

“I hate ‘classic’ books,” Derek said suddenly, the words spilling out. Stiles straightened, eyes widening, and then a surprised laugh burst out of his lips. It made Derek’s heart flip.

“Dude! Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Do you want to get a coffee?”

That spilled out before Derek could stop it too. He listened to Stiles’s heart skip a beat, caught the sudden change of his scent, and Derek nearly wilted in on himself. But then Stiles grinned from ear to ear and nodded. And Derek didn’t think he’d ever been more relieved or happy.

“Really?”

“Or dinner,” Sties said, winking. “I know this excellent pizza place.”

“Pizza?”

“Or Italian,” Stiles said quickly, looking suddenly nervous again. “Or Mexican, or Chinese, or—”

“Pizza’s good,” Derek said. Stiles cut off and another brilliant smile cracked across his face.

“Well then,” the boy said, moving a little closer. He tilted his head up and studied Derek’s face, long eyelashes fluttering. “It’s nearly something o’clock. You wanna take me now?”

Derek was pretty sure he growled. Stiles’s teeth sunk into his lower lip.

“Is that a yes?”

“Dammit, Stiles—”  _ His scent. _ Standing there on the street, only a little ways from where Stiles had first nearly bowled him over, Derek was pretty sure he’d never smelled anything better.

It was like spices and autumn leaves. It was like sitting around the fireplace with his family, watching his siblings roll around in the leaves, smelling the cocoa his father would make on a cold day. His scent was like family. It surrounded him like pack.

It felt like home.

“Let’s go now,” Derek said, voice cracking. Stiles beamed.

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun with this one. I've never written a mates Stiles/Derek but it was super enjoyable! Of course, I'd love to hear what you guys thought and I adore you all <3


End file.
